Death's Champion
by Josh12349
Summary: With Alduin defeated, and the Dragonborn gone, a new threat has come to Skyrim which is far more terrible than before. A warrior clad in obsidian has come for the souls of all those within Skyrim, and eventually all of Tamriel. The entirety of the obsidian warrior's quest revolves around a mysterious tome which must be transported to Winterhold before Death emerges victorious.
1. The Obsidian Giant

**1:**

As Powell approached the watchtower to the small fort he heard the lookout shout, "Halt! Who goes there?"

Powell raised his hands so the lookout could see, as did his assistant, saying, "I'm just a weary traveler hoping to find some refuge within the walls of an imperial fort!"

The imperial lookout shouted back, "How do we know that you aren't stormcloak rebels coming to cause some trouble?"

"We're not rebels. I'm a consultant to the Arch-Mage at the College of Winterhold. I have credentials in my pack if your commander wishes to see them." Powell shouted back with indifference.

The lookout eyed Powell and his assistant a couple of times before calling to the gatekeeper, "Open the gate!"

The massive wooden gate which closed off the entrance to the fort slowly opened, creaking at the hinges. At the other side of the gate, Powell and his assistant were greeted by three archers who had their bows drawn in their direction.

Powell kept his hands raised as an imperial captain came out and extended his hand, "Your credentials?"

Powell nodded and slipped his bag off of his shoulder and opened it up. After a few moments of sifting through scrolls and potions, he pulled out a leather envelope which contained a folded piece of paper. The captain took the paper and eyed over the words and pushed it back. He said, "You're clear to stay the night tonight. But be warned, we have received intelligence that stormcloaks are moving around this area, if the fort comes under attack you will be forced to help defend it."

Powell nodded in understanding, and at that moment his brain was overcome by massive amounts of pain. He gripped his head with both hands and went down to his knees. A scream of anguish escaped his lips just before he fell unconscious.

The captain gripped the assistant's shoulder and asked, "What happened to him?"

The assistant bent down to Powell, pressing his finger against Powell's temple. He closed his eyes for only a few moments before standing back up. He looked to the captain with a grave face and said, "Something very powerful, and very evil, is coming to this base."

The captain was barely able to ask, "What do you mean?" before there was a large gust of wind and dark clouds filled the sky. Lightning struck all around the fort, clawing at the sky and the ground all around. There was a loud clap of thunder that made everyone's ears ring, and a figure appeared at the center of the courtyard.

The massive figure wore armor made of pure black obsidian, and had a sword sheathed at his side. The obsidian armor covered the figure head to toe, without exposing any skin whatsoever. He took two steps toward Powell before outstretching his hand and saying, "Give it to me."

Powell's assistant shuddered at the figure's cold voice and began to cower away. The imperial captain drew his sword and brought his shield up. He said, "Who are you!"

The figure said once again, "Give it to me."

Powell's assistant managed to say, "What do you want?"

The figure pointed toward Powell's pack and said, "The tome you are transporting to Winterhold."

The assistant's eyes widened and he shook his head, "So you're who Iachesis mentioned?"

The captain looked back and forth between the assistant and the dark, looming, figure before saying, "Whoever you are, we won't give you anything while you stand in an imperial fort without authorization. Leave now."

A laugh escaped the helmet of the figure, which chilled the bones of everyone in the courtyard, including the battle-hardened imperial captain. He said, "If you refuse to give me the tome, I will kill you all and take the tome for myself."

As the captain's head began to turn in defiance the figure's sword appeared out of the blink of an eye, and the obsidian beast was upon him. The captain raised his shield to block the heavy blow; however the wooden shield burst into splinters upon impact. The imperial captain dived away from the figure, throwing his destroyed shield off to the side.

With the captain out of the way the four archers within the courtyard let loose with their arrows. The steel tips of the projectiles deflected off of the thick obsidian armor, and fell to the ground. The figure lunged at the line of three archers and cut each of them down within seconds.

The archer in the watchtower continued to fire, but came out fruitless. The figure turned toward the massive stone tower and extended his hand. There was a rush of kinetic force, and the base of the tower exploded inward, sending debris in all directions. The tower collapsed inward in a massive crash, and a wave of dust was sent up into the air.

Powell's assistant bent down over Powell and began to shake at his arm saying, "Powell he has come! We must move now!"

There was a loud battle cry as the imperial captain lunged at the attacker with all of the force that he could muster. His steel sword hit his deadly foe's obsidian armor with a loud _clang_ but the attack had no effect, instead the attacker grabbed the captain by the wrist and threw him through the air. The captain hit the wall to the fortress with a sickening _crack_ and the captain slouched over onto the ground.

The figure turned to Powell's limp body, and the cowering assistant. The assistant extended his hand, palm facing outward, and flames leaped toward the attacker. Instead of blocking the fire, the obsidian armor seemed to absorb the magical attack, and consume the flames that barraged it. The obsidian giant slowly moved toward the unfortunate assistant, flourishing his sword to frighten his victim before the kill.

However at the last second Powell suddenly leaped to his feet, unleashing a wave of magical energy. The attacker was knocked back a few paces from Powell's attack, and tried to fight against the invisible force pushing him away.

The attacker said to Powell, "You dare defy me and my master?"

Powell shook his head with disgust, "You and your master have no place in Skyrim or the rest of Tamriel. Return to the pit where you belong before I am forced to destroy you where you stand!"

The attacker actually gave out what sounded as a grunt of pain, "My master does not abide by the demands of foolish mortals who believe that they understand the world that exist alongside their own."

"As long as this tome is in my possession, you have no choice!" Powell replied with anger.

The figure stood to his full height and said, "You are wrong!" In a last ditch exertion of will the attacker used his Thu'um to sprint forward the few meters between himself and Powell, and grabbed the man by the throat. Powell was shocked at the sudden turn from favor, and he clawed at the black obsidian gauntlet around his throat.

Powell tossed his bag to his assistant and managed, "Go to Winterhold!" Then he wrapped his arms around the obsidian giant and lashed out with the full force of his magical will. The resulting explosion knocked the assistant onto his back a few meters away, and the pair of figures disappeared.

Powell's assistant sat up and stared at the resulting crater from the explosion in disbelief, and sat for a few minutes in stunned silence. He stood up and sprinted away from the scene of destruction toward the north…toward Winerhold.


	2. Journey in Ice

_I forgot to leave a little note on my first part, sorry about that, but this is my newest project that I've come up with. Aside from this I've got one more crossover for Mass Effect and Star Wars. _

_Anyway I hope you like my second part of Death's Champion. If you find any issue, or you want to give me any tips on how to improve please just send me a message, and I'll try and improve in part 3._

_And, as always, enjoy!_

* * *

**2:**

"Alright Gejik you know what to do?"

The orc turned to his friend and raised his eyebrow, "Of course I do. This isn't my first time."

"Well you never know, you may have forgotten all of the steps."

Gejik turned his head away and chuckled under his breath, "An orc never forgets his first time. You of all people should know that."

The man turned and said, "Alright then. Let's dance." He flipped his hood over his head and pulled back the arrow on his bow. He pointed the arrow down to the balcony of the large mansion and released the string. With a _twang_ the arrow flew through the air and the iron tip sank into the wooden frame above the balcony upon impact. He turned to his orc friend and nodded with a grin on his lips, "Do your magic."

The orc jumped off of the cliff and gripped the rope, which was held up by the arrow Corso had shot. Gejik's body weight pulled down on the arrow, which gave way halfway through the slide. Gejik raised his eyebrows in shock, and flailed his arms as he plummeted down toward the ground below. However he had made it far enough down the line that he hit the lower window of the mansion, and broke through the glass, landing on an expensive looking table.

The party guests turned in shock as Gejik stood up, looming over them. The volume reached the uncomfortable point that seemed to be far below that point of silence, and Corso was left staring at the scene with his mouth wide open.

Gejik rubbed his bald head and mumbled under his breath, "For crying out loud." He then lifted his arms into the air, exposed his large mandibles and let out a loud battle cry. The room quickly went from awkward silence to disorganized chaos, as party guests sprinted back and forth, trying to get away from Gejik's threatening demeanor.

For a few moments Gejik stood with his hands on his hips, laughing at the scene he had created in just a few seconds. Then an arrow came in through the window and hit the ground only a few millimeters away from his right foot. He jumped and spun around and glared up at Corso, who was pointing toward the balcony angrily.

Gejik waved back and shook his head as he turned back just in time to see the glimmer of steel, and duck below the would-be killing blow. The guard's sword gave off a subtle hum as it flew over Gejik's head, and Gejik immediately knew that the sword was enchanted somehow. Gejik picked up a board from the table and swung it at the guard to keep him at bay long enough for Corso to pick him off with an arrow.

Unfortunately out of the corner of his eye Gejik saw Corso slide down another zipline and into the balcony up one level. Gejik sighed just as the guard's sword sank into the wood, which caught on fire due to the blade's enchantement.

Gejik sighed, "Great. Fire." He then twisted the board, which pulled the sword out of the guard's hand and left him defenseless to the massive orc. Gejik slammed his fist into the guard's unprotected face and the sound of breaking bones filled Gejik's hearing. The guard crumbled to the ground, cradling his now broken nose, crying out in pain. Gejik picked up the guard's sword and ran up the stairs and down a few halls until he was outside the master bedroom.

Gejik kicked the door to the bedroom with the heel of his foot, and the polished wooden door splintered and was kicked off its hinges. Inside Gejik saw Corso standing at the foot of the very expensive looking bed with his bow pointed at the man underneath the covers. The man was wearing an expensive dark blue robe, and had his hands up in the air. The elven woman next to him was much less covered and was hiding underneath the blankets.

Corso looked at Gejik as he entered and said, "Took you long enough."

Gejik replied, "If your shot had gone a little deeper maybe we wouldn't have gotten into this mess to begin with!"

"You said that you knew how to do this dance Gejik. Maybe you need to learn not to step on anybody's toes."

Gejik rolled his eyes away from his partner and said, "Alright where is the safe?"

"Funny thing, we were talking about that until you kicked down the door and interrupted our pleasant conversation."

Gejik recognized the man in the bed as Desidarious Erasimus. Erasimus was a famed black market dealer in Skyrim, and usually kept on good terms with those he deals with. Unfortunately he got a bit cocky, stole a great deal of money and gems, which led to Gejik and Corso's being there.

Erasimus said, "So you're with the guild?"

Corso shook his head, "No"

"Then who hired you?" Erasimus asked with a hint of confusion in his tone.

Corso shrugged, "Delvin from the guild sent us if that's any consolation."

"So you aren't with the guild, but Delvin sent you on guild business?"

"It's kinda complicated." Corso tried to explain, "You see. Gejik and I don't work for any one person in particular. We've done jobs for the Companions out of Whiterun, the College up in Winterhold, even the Dark Brotherhood contacted us once. Delvin is our main man though. He's usually got a lot of jobs that the guild can't always handle." Corso shook his head and said, "But I digress, you stole money from the guild, specifically Delvin, and he wants it back ASAP. Now you tell me where the safe is that you tossed all of the gold, and we will be on our merry way."

"And if I refuse?"

"Well then I put this here arrow through the throat of your elf friend there," Corso gestured the tip of the arrow toward the cowering elf, "And then I put another through yours. Then Gejik and I turn this place upside down looking for it all and burn everything down when we are done."

The elf next to Desidarious yelped and started to shake a bit more, and Desidarious began to sweat. He said, "Down in the dining room there's a wine rack. Behind the rack there's a small switch that'll open the passage to the cellar where the safe is locked up." He nodded toward his desk, "In the second drawer is the key to the safe. Take whatever you want and please get out."

Corso nodded toward Gejik, who grabbed the key from the desk and went down the dining room, opened the passage, and went down a few stairs until the corridor opened up to a small room holding a large safe. Gejik opened the safe, put all of the stolen gold into a large sack, and went back up to the master bedroom, where Corso still stood in the same position.

Corso raised an eyebrow, and Gejik shook the bag in confirmation that all of the gold had been recovered. Corso nodded and immediately released the arrow which he had pointed at Erasimus' throat. Blood poured from the wound, and Erasimus gripped the shaft and began to cough violently. The elf woman screamed and rolled out of the bed, away from her dying convulsed for a moment and eventually stopped moving and died underneath the heavy blankets of his bed.

The elf woman stared at Corso with wide eyes and said, "You promised to let him go!"

Corso looked her in the eyes and said, "I promised no such thing. I made a threat, he caved, and now he has paid the consequence of his actions. Now get out."

When the elf was out of the room, Gejik turned to Corso and said, "We didn't have to kill him."

Corso strapped his bow to his back after pulling the arrow from Erasimus' limp body. He grabbed a torch off of the wall and said, "Delvin said that he wanted Erasimus dead if at all possible, and the house burned." He threw the torch down onto the bed, and the sheets quickly caught fire. The flames raked up the walls of the bedroom and soon the heat started to become overwhelming.

Gejik shielded his eyes from the heat and asked, "Back to Riften then?" Corso nodded and left the room without a word, with Gejik following closely behind.

The pair had been on the road for only a few hours when Corso called to Gejik, "Do you see that?"

Gejik snapped out of his daydreaming and peered out in the direction Corso had pointed. Amidst the frost and snow he saw a brown shape slowly laboring its way up the side of a steep hill. Behind the shape were four distinct black masses moving far more quickly toward the brown shape. Gejik focused a bit more and found that the brown mass was a skinny young man, and the black masses were wolves coming to finish him off.

Gejik said, "It's a man, and those wolves are going to kill him." Gejik turned to Corso and said, "That is, unless we help him."

Corso let a small grin come to his face, and he pulled his bow out. Gejik sprinted to intercept the pack of wolves, and within seconds two arrows had already flew past his head, and hit the lead two wolves in the eyes. Gejik came upon the last two, enchanted sword in hand, and cut down the first one with one heavy slash across the wolf's center. The enchantment on the sword singed the hair of the wolf, and dark crimson blood spilled out onto the white snow of the mountain. The second wolf lunged at Gejik's throat, but the orc caught the animal in the air and tossed it off to the side. Gejik threw his blade into the forehead of the wolf, which slumped over in death.

As Gejik pulled his blade out of the skull of the dead wolf, Corso plowed through the snow to his comrade. Corso clapped his hand on Gejik's shoulder and said, "Nice throw."

Gejik shrugged and replied, "What can I say?" Gejik looked past his friend and saw that the man clad in brown was lying in the snow face down. Gejik ran over to the man and turned him onto his back.

The man let out a labored exhale and said, "So are you here to finish me off?"

Gejik shook his head and said, "No sir, if we wanted you dead we would have let the wolves kill you.

The man managed to chuckle before coughing and saying, "I need your help."

Corso leaned over the man and asked, "First of all, what's your name?"

"Torrin," he said, "Please I need your help."

"You need to get out of this weather first my friend; we can't help you if you die of hypothermia." Corso gripped Torrin by the arm and lifted him up off the freezing landscape. Gejik bent down and picked Torrin up and cradled him in-between his arms.

Corso said to Gejik, "The Nightgate Inn isn't that far from here. Hadring will get us a room." Corso bent down to pick up Torrin's pack, and a leather-bound book fell out into the snow. A slight chill went up Corso's spine when he looked down on the book, and he took a step back. The snow around the book slowly began to melt. Corso stepped forward, grabbed the book, and threw it into Torrin's pack.


	3. The Return of the Master

_Hello and welcome to the third part of Death's Champion! I hope you like this part, and as before if you have any tips or tricks you think need to be implimented into my writing don't hesitate to send me a message. _

_Also just a little request of mine, if you could please leave some sort of a review behind on your way out it would be nice. I need to know if you guys like how the story is going or if you have any issues with it. Anything you say will be taken into account. After all, this is all for you guys._

_And, as always, enjoy!_

* * *

**3:**

Powell woke up with his head spinning, and his ears ringing. His encounter with the obsidian attacker he had been drained of most of his magical energies. He woke up in a small room made of stone and lined with bookshelves full of books. Powell sat up on the medium sized bed and looked around. His head pounded and he could only move slowly without being overcome with pain.

From the doorway he heard someone say, "Don't worry. You're safe."

Powel jumped, which caused the throbbing in his head to increase, and he looked toward the door. In the doorway a man stood wearing long white robes, which hit the floor, with his arms crossed. He smiled when Powell met his eyes and he said, "Incredible thing you did back there at the fort. No normal person would be able to stand up to a creature such as him and live to tell the tale."

Powell rubbed his head and said, "I don't feel alive."

The older man chuckled and said, "Of course you don't! A spell that caused an explosion like that would drain you of energy for a long while. You've been unconscious here for approximately two weeks recovering."

Powell blinked in surprise and asked, "Two weeks? What about Torrin? Did he make it to Winterhold? What happened to the tome?"

The man took a couple of steps into the room and said, "I forgot that you don't know exactly where you are." He gestured to the room all around, "This place exists outside of time. What seems like two weeks for you have only been a couple of days for your assistant Torrin." He sat down on the bed next to Powell, "Your assistant was slowed when he reached the mountains, but I assure you that he is in good hands, and the tome is safe."

Powell sighed in relief. At least Torrin was safe, and the tome did not belong to the obsidian-clad figure. Powell asked, "Who is he?"

The man stood up and walked over to a bookshelf on the far side of the room. He started to sift through books as he spoke, "Many thousands of years ago, even before the Daedra held their power over the world. The gods reigned freely over the world. One of the gods who ruled was Death." He pulled out a dark book and flipped through the pages within until he reached the midpoint of the book. He gave the book to Powell, who looked at the page and saw that the illustration showed the obsidian figure. The man continued, "While the gods ruled, many mortals wished to gain their favor. They would seek to serve to gods in any way they could. Eventually, when one person gained the favor of a god, that god named that person their champion. The champion would be granted much power, and would be the physical representation of that god on this world."

Powell looked up from the pages in realization, "So you're telling me that this man is Death's Champion?"

The old man nodded and took the book from Powell. He said, "Death was the worst among the gods, as you might suspect. He was vile, slanderous, and unkind. The gods eventually grew tired of Death's insolence and marked him as an outcast among the gods. With Death's influence gone, his champion disappeared from the world as well." He slipped the book back into its place and said, "The other gods tried to rule over Death's dominion in Deaths place."

"So what's happening now?" Powell asked with growing curiosity. '

"I do not know all of the details; however the gods have been weakened somehow and Death has returned to rule over his dominion, as well as claim the souls of those who escaped his grasp"

Powell leaned forward and asked, "What does the Champion have to do with this?"

The old man sifted through a group of papers and pulled out a group of them and tossed them on the table in the corner. Powell approached the table and saw images of the tome Torrin had been carrying alongside another image of the Champion.

While Powell was looking the old man said, "I do not know the power that the tome holds, however I do know that the tome was given to the Champion by Death those thousands of years ago. I can only assume that the tome holds Death's power."

Powell continued to read through the papers, and then slowly looked toward the old man, "Who are you?" Powell asked.

The old man put his hands at his side and replied, "I used to belong to a very old, and very powerful, order of mages."

Powell's eyes widened, "You're a Psijic."

The old man raised his finger, "I used to be a Psijic. Unfortunately the order does not particularly enjoy its members meddling in the affairs of those around us." He sat down at the chair across from Powell and said, "I left the order to help the people of Tamriel and how did they thank me? They cast me out and blamed me for what had happened to them."

Powell met his eyes and asked, "Can you help now?"

"I've done all I am willing to do. I have brought you to my home outside of time to teach you about who will bring about your destruction."

Powell gestured to the room around them, "You created this place?"

He nodded, "Yes."

"Then you're the strongest mage I've ever encountered." Powell then asked with a hint of desperation, "Please help us."

The old man waved his hand and there was another flash of light, which blinded Powell. Powell felt pain cut through the forefront of his brain, and when he opened his eyes, he was lying on the forest floor. He blinked at the sunlight that pierced his eyes and sighed.

* * *

Torrin woke up to see two men sitting at his bedside. One was a massive Orc, clad in leather armor and had a sword sheathed at his side. The second man was a man, seeming to be an Imperial, wearing light leather armor which was covered by his hooded cloak. The Imperial wore a dark goatee on his face, which complimented his mid length dark hair.

Torrin recognized both of them to be his rescuers from the mountainside. As he sat up, both of them turned to greet him. The orc asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Much better now that I'm warmer and I'm not being hunted down by a pack of wolves, thank you." He turned to the Imperial and asked, "Who are you two?"

The Imperial pointed to himself, "My name is Corso," He pointed to the orc, "and this is Gejik, my partner. You said that you needed our help out on the mountainside. What did you need?"

Torrin went into denial, "I simply needed your help out of there that's all. And as far as that goes, I can pay for any expenses that were paid on my behalf."

Corso waved his hand in dismissal, "Don't worry about it. It was our pleasure However I have to ask, "He pulled the tome out of Torrin's bag and held it up at eye level, "What exactly is this?"

Torrin immediately reached out to grab the book, but Corso pulled it away as Gejik pushed Torrin back down. Corso continued, "It must be pretty important to cause that kind of a reaction." He flipped through the blank pages within, "Oh wait a second it's blank inside!" He tossed it onto the floor, "But when it fell into the snow everything started to melt like it was radiating magic of some kind." He leaned forward and stared straight into Torrin's eyes, "What is that book?"

Torrin sat back up with regained composure, "Fine I do need further assistance." Corso sat back and raised his eyebrows, "A few weeks ago my master and I were given that book to take to the Arch-Mage at the college of Winterhold. A couple of days ago we stopped at an imperial fort for rest and were attacked by a massive figure in obsidian armor. He destroyed the fort and killed those defending it." He looked to Gejik, "My master gave up his life in order to save my own so that I could get to Winterhold."

Gejik asked, "What is so special about that book?"

Torrin shrugged, "I don't know, but like you said," he gestured toward Corso, "it has some sort of dark power within it, and that monster was willing to destroy an entire imperial fort to get it. It has to be important."

Gejik nodded, "So you need us to help you get to Winterhold?"

Torrin nodded to Gejik, "Yes, if at all possible."

Gejik turned to Corso with a raised eyebrow, and Corso leaned back in his chair. He eyed the tome up and down, and then looked to Torrin. He said, "I'll have to make special arrangements with our previous contact, and then I'll meet you two outside."

He stood up and left the inn behind him. Outside the temperature had dropped even further and the wind had started to blow even faster. Corso stepped away from the inn and stared up at the sky. After a moment he walked up to the courier who was running by and gave him a small piece of parchment which read, '_The job is done. Erasimus is dead; the funds are at Nightgate Inn. Something else has come up, meet me in Winterhold as soon as you can.' _ He then said to the hawk, "Take this to Delvin Mallory in Riften." The courier nodded and ran off.

Corso looked back to the sky and said to himself, "The time has finally come."


	4. The Dragon Lord

_If you don't mind I would appreciate a bit of feedback for this update of Death's Champion, mostly because I want to know what you think of some of the new "details" I've thrown in toward the end. And advice wouldn't go amiss anyway._

_Thanks and, as always, enjoy!_

* * *

**4:**

When Corso returned to the front porch of the Nightgate Inn Gejik and Torrin were ready to move. Gejik had bought one more horse off of one of the travelers who were at the inn, and they had loaded the supplies up onto the horses.

Upon his approach Gejik asked, "Did you send a message to Delvin?"

Corso nodded and replied, "I told him that we would leave the funds from Erasimus' place here at the inn. Did you leave them with Hadring?"

Gejik nodded, "Yeah. I figured you would tell Delvin we would leave them here."

Corso smiled as he pulled himself up on his horse, "Then you know me too well." Corso turned to Torrin, "At full gallop Winterhold is about a two day ride from here if we take the easy way. If you want to brave the rocky mountain passes we can get there faster, but trolls tend to make it a habit to block the paths."

Torrin looked up the mountain, then back at the road. After a moment of pondering he said, "We need to get to Winterhold as fast as possible. Let's cut through the mountain passes."

Corso nodded and gave his horse a light kick to get it moving. Gejik and Torrin followed close behind on their own steeds. With each hour that passed the terrain got rougher, the snow got heavier, and the temperature dropped even lower. Soon Corso had removed his heavy cloak from his pack and wrapped it around himself, and Torrin did the same. Gejik lasted longer than the two men, but in the end he submitted and put on a cloak of his own.

The trio lasted a few hours moving as fast as the horses could carry them until the horses themselves began to tire due to the rough terrain and snow pushing against them. The horses began to slow, and eventually fell to a light trot, plowing through the snow which came up so high it graced the bottom of the rider's cloaks.

Torrin called up to Corso, "Did you expect this!"

Corso shouted back over the wind, "The weather is never this bad, not even in Skyrim." He looked around and said, "We aren't going to get any further tonight. We'll set up camp under that overhang." He pointed over toward a rock formation where a long slab was hanging over, covering the ground from most of the snowfall.

Torrin asked, "I thought you said that we would be there sooner."

"That was before the weather got this bad. I don't want to wear out the horses on account of that book." He rode his hose over to the overhang and got down. He tossed his bag over in the corner and said, "We'll set out early tomorrow morning."

Gejik unloaded his pack, as did Torrin, and within the hour Corso was covered and asleep in the corner, leaving the two travelers awake and freezing through the night. Torrin was curled up, trying to preserve some amount of body heat, while Gejik was desperately trying to start a fire of some kind to warm the pair up.

Torrin shivered and gestured toward the motionless Corso, "How does he do that?"

Gejik looked over to his friend and replied, "Corso's a mystery."

"What do you mean?" Torrin asked.

Gejik threw his flint and steel out in the snow in frustration and sat back. He looked to Torrin and said, "Every time I ask Corso about his past, he avoids the question or changes the subject. He has no family, I'm his only friend, and he has no previous training to speak of. And yet he is able to shoot accurately over the farthest distances I have seen, and he knows almost every secret path and trail through all of Tamriel." Gejik pulled his thick blanket over himself and lay down.

Torrin asked, "He has nothing? No past? No family?"

Gejik shrugged, "One time, after I got him really drunk, he did tell me that one time he had a wife and kid. But that was all I managed to get out of him."

Torrin stared over toward the sleeping mystery and then perked his ears, "Do you hear that?"

Gejik stayed still and said after a few moments, "Sounds like…wings."

Corso jumped up and grabbed his bow from his pack, as well as throwing his arrows over his shoulder. Gejik followed Corso, and Torrin jumped out of surprise. Within seconds an arrow was knocked on Corso's bow and he said to Torrin, "Watch the horses!"

Gejik nodded to Corso, "How big do you think?"

Corso took a few steps outside from under the natural canopy and looked up. He said, "It's a pretty big one."

Gejik ran outside, alongside Corso, and looked up to see the massive dragon flying in circles around them. Corso raised his bow and released his first arrow, which sailed through the air and hit the dragon in the center of its massive body. There was a growl and the dragon dived down at the two men and there was a crash of thunder followed by a push that tossed the two men many yards away.

The dragon landed in-between the two men and Torrin and said, "Stop! I am not here to combat you!" Corso lifted himself off of the ground and drew another arrow, which he pointed at the dragon's eye. The dragon said, "If I wished to kill you, I would have done so by now."

Gejik asked, "Who are you?"

The dragon lifted his head and turned toward Gejik, "My name is Paarthurnax, the Old One, and I am here to warn you both, as well as your companion."

Torrin ran out toward Paarthurnax and asked, "What do you mean?"

Parthurnax moved his massive body toward Torrin, "The creature that you are fleeing has returned to Keizall, Skyrim, and he is amassing a force to stop you."

Torrin looked at the dragon with confusion, "Why doesn't he just appear right here like he did before?"

"The creature nearly avoided death after his confrontation with your master. It took him much power to save himself from destruction. His ability to move throughout Keizall is limited."

Gejik said, "So why are you here?

Paarthurnax adjusted himself to reply, "I have come to lend you my own aid in this matter."

Corso spoke for the first time, "Why would a dragon, especially one who fought alongside Alduin, come to help us?"

There was a prolonged silence as Paarthurnax and Corso stared at each other. Even though Corso was only a small man compared to the massive dragon, he stood with confidence and almost seemed to be intimidating. Parrthurnax broke the silence by asking, "You know of the Dragon Wars?"

"I've been well educated when it comes to the past." Corso replied. After speaking he turned away and went back under the overhang."

Paarthrunax's eyes followed Corso until Gejik asked, "So how do you plan on helping?"

Paarthurnax's gaze broke away from Corso, and returned to Gejik, "I will take all three of you to Winterhold now. The oncoming storm is dark, and we must prepare for when it comes."

Torrin looked over to Corso, who was packing each of their bags, and putting out the very few embers of the fire. Corso looked up at Paarthurnax and said, "We'll be ready to go in a few moments."

Paarthurnax's eyes met Corso's and they stayed silent until the trio was ready to depart. Paarthurnax bent down and allowed each of them to climb onto his back and he said, "We will be at the college soon.

* * *

Arch-Mage Vittorian sat in his personal study pouring over the many memoirs and journals of the past. Not even the oldest of journals answered any of his questions concerning the threats of which they now faced. He raked his fingers through his hair and sighed, "Even with the oldest of works we still remain in ignorance against the threat of which we now face."

One of the older students, a kajit named J'zargo burst into the study and exclaimed, "Arch-Mage a dragon is approaching the college!"

Vittorian slowly stood up and said to the kajit, "Don't worry J'zargo. For the first time, this dragon is welcome at our college."

J'zargo looked at the Arch-Mage with confusion, but turned around and ran out the door; no doubt going to spread the word of the college's eminent doom. The Arch-Mage slowly walked out of his study, and made way to the upper ring of the college's exterior. His heels clacked against the stone as he made his way to the center of the half-circle.

Just as he reached the center Paarthurnax landed, unloading the three passengers he had carried. The first Vittorian recognized was a massive orc, who had a large sword at his hip. The second man was a medium sized man who wore a dark goatee and the same colored dark hair. The third man who came off of the massive dragon was a smaller man who wore a cloak with his hood up, and cradled a small sack in his arms.

The Arch-Mage bowed to Paarthurnax and said, "I'm glad that you came to our aid Old Once, and I as Arch-Mage personally welcome you to the College of Winterhold."

Paarthurnax lowered his head slightly and said, "I thank you for your welcome. However time is short and this one must speak with you immediately."

Paarthurnax gestured his head toward Torrin, who stepped forward and said, "Arch-Mage Vittorian, I have come with a tome which I was told to deliver to you specifically."

Vittorian raised a questioning eyebrow and took the book from Torrin's hands. He pulled the cloth off of the tome to reveal a thick leather-bound tome. Vittorian flipped through the pages within, which were written in an ancient, but familiar, dialect. Vittorian asked, "What is this?"

Vittorian noticed what seemed like to be disappointment on the young man's face. Torrin said, "It's the tome that the obsidian beast wants to get his hands on."

Vittoian's heart jumped and asked, "Are you Powell's apprentice?"

Torrin nodded his head with hesitation and asked, "Were you informed of my coming?"

Vittorian looked at Torrin with a very confused look and said, with curiosity in his tone, "Of course I have…your master told me you would arrive."

"Well I'm sorry to inform you that my master was killed not a week ago."

Vittorian's expression did not change from confusion as he said, "What do you mean? Your master arrived at our college not a day ago."

As if on cue the door on the far side of the walkway opened and Powell appeared from within the doors of the college. Torrin stood in bewilderment as Powell slowly made his way over to the group. Torrin stood in stunned silence, while Coro and Gejik stared at their shocked companion. Powell chuckled and said to his pupil, "It's good to see you too Torrin."

Torrin pointed up and down and managed to ask, "How?"

Powell shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, "I have no idea. After the explosion at the fort I was transported somewhere unknown to me by a man I had never met. He explained to me who it is we fight, and where he came from."

Corso spoke for the first time since their arrival, "Please explain."

Powell gestured toward the door, "Come inside and I'll explain everything."

* * *

Corso walked back out to the upper ring on the exterior of the college lulling over all of the information Powell had just told him. The obsidian beast pursuing them was an immortal champion of death bent on taking the souls of everyone in Tamriel all by the will of Death. Best of all, they had no way to stop him, and knew of no weaknesses that they could exploit.

Corso shook his head and sighed at the pitiful odds they had, it seemed that there was no hope at all.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the flapping of wings, and he heard Paarthurnax land not far from where he was standing. The two stated in silence for a long time, taking in the cool of the night. Paarthurnax broke the silence first, "For the first time in many years, I have found myself needing to ask a question to another."

Corso did not turn to Paarthurnax, but did show interest, "Oh?"

Paarthurnax continued, "How much do you know of the Dragon Wars?"

"More than you could imagine."

"Enlighten me."

Corso leaned against the stone of the college and said, "I fought during the wars."

Paarthurnax almost seemed to be surprised by Corso's statement. The elder dragon continued to inquire, "How do you live now with the wars so long ago?"

Corso looked out toward the icy landscape of Skyrim, almost as if he was in a dream. He replied, "During the wars I was blind enough to fight alongside Alduin and in the name of the dragons. Even though I was young at the time, I was an exceptional warrior. I cut down anyone in my path with ease and without remorse." He took in a deep breath and exhaled before continuing, "I killed anyone who opposed the rule of the dragons without questioning my actions. I would lead troops into cities and round up the people within to have them burned with all they once held dear." Corso took a moment in silence before finishing, "As a reward for my deeds Alduin gave me the power and strength to command dragons of his army."

Paarthurnax nodded in understanding, finally knowing who stood before him, "You are Dova Drog, Dragon Lord."

Corso replied, "That is what I was labeled by those who despised me and wished me dead. It took until after the war ended for me to realize the evil that I had become."

"Why is it that you are alive Dova Drog?"

Corso looked to the dragon and said with a small degree of sadness, "I'm being punished for my crimes, plagued with immortality and the curse of never seeing Sovengarde when I am finally cut down."

"Perhaps when the time comes, you will save the world which you worked to destroy." Paarthurnax said before flying away, leaving Corso standing on his own.


End file.
